As Leon had observed, although Shadow had absorbed both chaotic and primordial energies to become a false god wielding Tiamat's strength, he had sacrificed the speed and reflexes that once made him so dangerous.
This flaw provided Leon and Mevis with a narrow window to press their advantage in close quarters.
Furthermore, close combat was their only viable strategy to gradually whittle down Shadow's overwhelming defenses.
After all, judging by the cataclysmic magical power Shadow had demonstrated earlier, engaging him in a battle of spells would have resulted in their swift and utter defeat.
Leon and Mevis charged forward once more, attacking Shadow from both flanks. Their strikes fell upon him like a relentless hailstorm—a coordinated assault of physical blows and primordial-infused attacks.
At the beginning of this renewed assault, Shadow attempted to parry and counter, but after a few exchanges, it became painfully clear he couldn't match their speed.
Moreover, even the most skilled warrior would struggle against two attackers moving as one. The synergy between Leon and Mevis was so instinctual, so flawless, that Shadow felt as if he was fighting a single, impossibly versatile entity.
Realizing the futility of this engagement, Shadow quickly disengaged, putting critical distance between himself and his opponents with a powerful push of energy.
He slowly raised his head, his gaze settling intently on Mevis. He stood upright, a calculating look in his eyes, and said,
"Your coordination is impeccable... Mevis, you must have been training with Leon in secret for a long time, haven't you?"
"No," Mevis replied without hesitation, her tone starkly honest. "Our first real cooperation was just a few months ago during the academy's outdoor assessment. Our opponent was a giant butterfly—far less of a challenge than you."
Although her words sounded almost absurd, they were entirely true.
Even Leon, one of the participants, couldn't refute her.
But Mevis—the woman who was his mother—spoke with a blunt, unvarnished style that he found strangely comforting. No matter how formidable the enemy, she could still ground the situation with stark reality.
Shadow's frown deepened. "I'm starting to become genuinely curious about your true goal. You served me for so many years, yet it seems your stated reason was always a lie."
Hearing this, Mevis slowly raised her hand, gently placing her palm over her chest where her heart would be. Her tone grew heavy, layered with decades of pain. "Like all those who have suffered the horrors of war, loss dwells deep within the hearts of both humans and dragons. It is a crystallization of profound grief, and it can forge a will strong enough to defy fate itself. However," she continued, her voice sharpening, "I am also well aware that the power you offer does not possess the ability to truly bring the dead back to life. It only creates hollow echoes."
Shadow raised an eyebrow, his interest visibly piqued. "Since you knew this from the beginning, why use the excuse of saving your family to infiltrate my ranks?"
Mevis shook her head, lowering her hand as primordial energy, tinged with a grey, spectral hue, surged around her once more. "Saving my family was never just an excuse or a mere reason, because—" Her inverted pupils blazed with a cold fire. "Revenge."
She tightened her stance, and a fresh wave of primordial magic erupted from her, her white eyes locked firmly on the enemy before her. Her voice was iron-clad, each word deliberate and filled with purpose,
"It truly is why I came here! Vengeance for my husband, and protection for my son!"
After this charged exchange, the second round of combat erupted with renewed ferocity.
"They can't give Shadow any time to think or adapt," Leon thought, his mind racing.
In his current depleted state, he wasn't suited for a prolonged battle. They had to end this, fast.
Shadow continued to create distance, attempting to batter them with wide-area magical bombardments.
But no matter how he maneuvered, Leon and Mevis doggedly pursued him, closing the gap with tenacious speed, denying him the space to unleash his full power.
"I didn't expect that after fusing the two primordial powers, my body would become so sluggish—" Shadow muttered through gritted teeth as he fended off their relentless assault.
"And Mevis, to see you applying primordial energy so directly to your physical strikes... truly unorthodox and impressive."
"And you, Leon." Shadow's gaze shifted to the human. "Do you have infinite stamina? By all rights, you should be a broken heap on the ground. Why do you still fight with such ferocity?"
Under normal circumstances, primordial energy functioned as a source to power spells, like fuel for an engine. The energy provided the potential, while the caster's magic circuits directed it to a destination.
But Shadow hadn't anticipated Mevis's unique method—channeling this raw energy directly into her fists and legs, using her own body as the conduit and the weapon.
It was as if the steam engine had discarded its wheels and learned to run on its own steam.
This brutal, efficient style of combat was far more effective against him than a protracted magical duel.
Imagine each basic attack carrying "true damage" that bypassed conventional defenses, at the cost of burning the user's own life force and spirit energy. Fortunately, the ancient dragon spirit within Mevis, bound by a soul contract, could continuously feed her strength.
And, of course, Leon Cosmodeous was the linchpin—a teammate whose will to protect others was so absolute he would not fall until the enemy was defeated.
Thus, the current scenario could be likened to this:
An entity dealing true damage with every basic attack, constantly regenerating, paired with a crowd-controlling, all-rounded warrior still fighting at his peak. Together, they faced a high-damage, slow-moving boss.
If this were a game, the party chat might read:
Mevis: "Wanna party up?"
Noah: "Joined the party lobby."
Leon: "Joined the party lobby."
Shadow: "???"
"If this continues, I'm going to be worn down by these two... I need a change in strategy, and fast," Shadow thought, a sliver of grim concern breaking through his godlike arrogance.
"The prince and that Mevis are actually pressuring him?" the Tower Master Simon remarked, evaluating the scene from their shelter, a flicker of hope in his old eyes.
The other Dragon Kings watched, equally shocked.
"Isn't that Shadow, imbued with the power of the Dragon God Tiamat? In theory, he could scour this entire city from the map with a thought."
Yet now, Shadow was being relentlessly hounded by Leon and Mevis, unable to bring his overwhelming power to bear effectively.
"I think... it's because Shadow is still a novice with the Dragon God's power," Claudia analyzed, her scholar's mind working. "It's like watching a child given a legendary sword—he has the strength, but he doesn't yet know how to wield it with skill. Shadow's situation is similar; the power is too vast, too new."
Odin narrowed his eyes, his ancient gaze scrutinizing the battlefield. After a long moment, he spoke slowly, his voice grave,
"Don't be fooled. Based on the Ultimate Fear's behavior and his own history, Shadow's adaptability and learning ability are monstrously fast. Look closely. In just these few minutes, he has already started to adjust to their attack patterns. His movements are becoming more economical. Soon... very soon, it will be his turn to counterattack."
Odin's combat experience surpassed everyone else's present, and his keen insight saw what others missed. Shadow was learning—not just how to wield the Dragon God's power, but also the rhythms and strategies of Leon and Mevis.
Even though he lacked their speed, the Dragon God's power granted him near-infinite durability to make mistakes and learn from them.
The battle was no longer a simple clash of power; it was now a desperate race against time.
Shadow had to master his newfound divinity and find a breakthrough before he was ground down, while Leon and Mevis needed to land a decisive blow before he completed his adaptation.
Noah, watching from the ruins, clenched her tiny fists, her nails digging into her palms. She bit her lip hard, her white eyes fixed on the fight, whispering a desperate prayer,
"Come on... you have to win... you absolutely must."
"I must admit, your performance has, against all odds, exceeded my expectations."
Shadow, despite being on the defensive against the father-and-son duo, now spoke with a chilling calm, a hint of dark amusement in his tone.
"I originally believed that with the Dragon God's power, no one in this world could so much as inconvenience me. But your stubborn, futile resistance is truly impressive and... a refreshing distraction."
"Unfortunately for you," his expression darkened, the amusement vanishing, "you've missed your one and only opportunity to kill me."
Shadow's presence seemed to swell, the air around him growing thick and heavy. "I have now fully synchronized with Tiamat's power. I understand its flow. So now—" he declared, his voice resonating with absolute authority, "it is my turn."
Mevis stomped the ground, unleashing a shockwave of dust, and launched herself forward, her fist a concentrated bullet of primordial energy aimed straight for Shadow's face.
"Enough with the grandiose speeches!"
Smack!-
Her punch was caught effortlessly in Shadow's palm.
Mevis froze for a split second in shock but immediately tried to wrench her hand back.
However, as she pulled, her eyes widened with horror—she could feel her primordial energy being siphoned away, drawn out of her and into Shadow's grasp like water into a sponge.
"H-How is this possible?!" she gasped.
"No matter how skillfully you wield it, in the end, that primordial energy originates from Tiamat, does it not?" Shadow's grip tightened like a vice on her wrist, the absorption rate increasing. "And I now hold the core of that power. Any primordial attack you use against me will only become my nourishment."
"As for you—" Shadow slowly turned his head, his gaze locking onto Leon as he charged in for a rescue.
"I can't even find the words to describe your tenacity. It transcends humanity itself."
"Let her go!" Leon roared, his voice a raw command as he activated the sixth gate and lunged, a human spear aimed at Shadow's chest.
But just before Leon's blow could land, an enormous surge of pure primordial energy exploded outwards from Shadow's body, forming a devastating shockwave that blasted Leon and the surrounding rubble high into the air. The nearby streets fractured and split under the sheer, concussive force.
Shadow, still gripping Mevis's wrist, spun and flung her violently through the air directly toward the tumbling form of Leon.
Mevis and Leon collided mid-air with a sickening thud before crashing together into a mountainous pile of shattered stone and steel.
"Leon! Are you okay?!" During the crash, Leon had twisted to cushion Mevis's impact. As soon as they skidded to a stop, Mevis scrambled to check on him, her voice tight with fear.
Leon shook his head, his body a canvas of fresh bruises and cuts. He tried to summon the Eighth Gate: Rebirth's Radiance to heal the worst of it, but his energy reserves were dry; not even a flicker answered his call.
Leaning back against a jagged piece of wall, he panted heavily, each breath a struggle. "My magic and stamina are gone. I have one more round in me, at most. We need to create one perfect opportunity—a single opening that lets us finish this with one decisive strike."
Gripping the hilt of the Thundercloud Blade tightly, Leon glanced toward Shadow, who was now walking toward them with deliberate, unhurried steps.
"Mevis," Leon said, his voice low and urgent, "can you use the Radiant Aurora Seal? Just to immobilize him for an instant? That's all I'd need."
Mevis turned her head to look at Shadow, biting her lip in hesitation. "I can, but like you said, I need an opening to land it. Even though his reactions are slow, the openings he leaves are fleeting, tiny... He'll see it coming now."
She hesitated again, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And... Rossweise's magic is completely depleted. She can't create a diversion for us anymore."
Hearing this, Leon gave a weary, bitter smile and shook his head. "That's... not great news."
"Have you finished your final strategy session?"
Shadow's voice cut through their conversation as he closed the remaining distance, now standing over them.
"If you're done, it's time for you to depart this world."
The moment his taunt ended, Leon and Mevis pushed off the ground in a last, simultaneous, desperate lunge.
But this time, Shadow was more than ready.
As they moved, a wall of shimmering, solid darkness erupted from the ground at their feet.
This shadow barrier was different from before—denser, more tangible. While Leon and Mevis's initial momentum carried them through its surface, their bodies were abruptly seized and locked in place mid-strike, as if the very shadows had become quicksand, trapping them completely.
Helpless, immobilized, they could only watch as Shadow casually approached.
He extended his hands, seizing Leon and Mevis by their throats, and lifted them effortlessly off the ground.
He gazed at Mevis for a long, contemptuous moment, then shifted his attention to Leon, a cold sneer twisting his features.
"So, here I hold the two would-be saviors of this world. With just a slight squeeze, neither of you will ever take another breath."
"This has truly been... an entertaining diversion. When I ascend to the throne of this new world, I shall look back on this moment with fond amusement."
"Let them go!"
Several figures landed heavily around Shadow, forming a tight, desperate circle. Odin, Morgan, Constantine, and Claudia—the remaining Dragon Kings—stood there, having dredged up the very last dregs of their magic, their bodies battered but their wills unbroken. They began to close the perimeter, step by agonizing step.
"Oh?" Shadow's gaze swept over them, dripping with disdain. "In the state you're in, it's a miracle you can even stand. And you think you can wrest anything from my grasp?"
"Don't fret," he continued, his tone conversational, as if discussing the weather. "After I snap their necks, I'll deal with each and every one of you. There's no hurry. One. By. One."
"The immediate threats here are neutralized," Shadow mused aloud, tightening his grip slightly.
"So are mine elsewhere," he added cryptically.
His gaze then swept over the group of humans huddled behind the Dragon Kings. "What about Rebecca? Rebecca, where are you?" he called out, his voice mockingly sweet.
A panic spread through the Lionheart ranks. "Rebecca??" Martin cried out, spinning around, his face pale. "Martin, where is she?!" another soldier shouted, their voices merging into a chorus of fear and confusion.
Rebecca Clement, the steadfast leader of the Lionheart Guild, was nowhere to be seen.
"Over here!"
Martin and Nacho rushed after Rebecca, following her up to the top of a crumbling watchtower that offered a precarious view of the central square. When they arrived, they found Rebecca on one knee, assembling a specially designed, massive sniper rifle with frantic, uncharacteristic haste.
Her face was a mask of tense concentration, but her hands betrayed her—they trembled slightly, fumbling several times as she tried to slot the components together.
Noticing Rebecca's unusually shaken state, Martin stepped forward and asked, his voice low with concern, "Rebecca? What's going on?"
Rebecca didn't look up, nor did she stop her work. Instead, she wordlessly handed Martin a pair of enhanced binoculars.
Martin took them and scanned the distant battlefield. What he saw made his breath hitch in his throat.
There, in a clearing surrounded by the battered forms of the Dragon Kings, Shadow stood, holding Leon and an unfamiliar woman aloft by their throats. The scene was one of utter defeat.
Martin muttered, the words tasting like ash, "How... how did the captain end up like this...?"
"That enemy... he's on a different level," Rebecca said, her voice a low, forced calm as she finally clicked the last component of the rifle into place. "I saw the captain behead that monstrosity, the Ultimate Fear. I thought it was over. But then Shadow... he transformed. It was like he became something else entirely, something that completely overpowered the captain."
"And now, with Rossweise and the others drained, the only ones who can provide any support from this range..." she finished, her gaze sweeping over Martin and Nacho, "...is us."
Nacho hesitated, wringing his hands nervously. "But Rebecca, if Shadow can suppress the captain and all the Dragon Kings... what can a rifle, even this one, possibly do?"
"That's why I had this prepared, just in case." Click. Rebecca finished assembling the weapon, a formidable piece of machinery almost as tall as she was.
Nacho, still skeptical, pressed, "Even our best enchanted armor-piercing rounds failed against his creatures. Against Shadow himself—"
"Which is why I won't be using an enchanted round." Rebecca cut him off, pulling a single, intricately crafted bullet from a secured pouch on her belt. It was made of a pure, milky-white crystal that seemed to hold an inner light. "I'll be using this."
"Is that...?" Martin's eyes widened, pointing at the bullet. "The pendant the Silver Dragon Queen gave you? The one made from her scale? You turned it into a bullet?"
Rebecca nodded grimly. "I've been watching. That woman fighting beside the captain—her attacks, the white energy... it's the only thing that seems to genuinely affect him. It's primordial magic. This bullet is crystallized primordial energy. If anything can pierce his defenses, it's this."
She loaded the single, precious bullet into the rifle's chamber with a soft, final thud. "Shadow may have gained unimaginable power, but Odin was right—his reaction speed has plummeted. That means there's a chance, a real chance, he won't be able to dodge or deflect a supersonic round."
She paused, her knuckles white where she gripped the stock. "But I only have one shot. If I miss..." She didn't need to finish the sentence. The grim finality in her eyes said it all.
She pressed her cheek against the cold stock, her cyan eyes staring down the scope, appearing calm. But beneath the surface, a storm of fear and pressure raged. She forced herself to regulate her breathing, repeating the sniper's mantra in her mind: It's just another shot. A clear lane, a steady target. Just another shot.
But the more she tried to convince herself, the more her hands trembled. The crosshairs danced over Shadow's head. Thirty seconds passed. She couldn't steady her aim enough to take the shot.
Taking a sharp, frustrated breath, Rebecca lowered her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if to block out the immense weight of the world.
Martin, understanding the colossal pressure crushing her, crouched beside her. He gently placed a hand on her trembling shoulder. "Rebecca?"
"I'm scared too, Martin," she confessed, her voice a broken whisper. She held up her hands; they were shaking uncontrollably. "If I miss... the captain, that woman... they're dead. Maybe... maybe the entire Samuel Continent falls after that."
The responsibility had descended upon her too suddenly, too absolutely. She was a crack shot, a leader, but she had never carried the fate of the world on the trigger finger of a single, impossible shot.
"I've missed before, Martin. And every time, you were there. The squad was there. You'd cover me, we'd retreat, we'd live to fight another day—" Her voice cracked. "But now... my hands are so cold... I can't even calculate the wind drift properly— Martin, I'm terrified, I can't—"
"I'll pull the trigger for you, Rebecca."
"W-what?"
Martin lay down beside her, aligning his body with the rifle. He reached over, his own hands—warm and steady—gently enveloping her icy, trembling ones. He looked at her, a soft, reassuring smile on his face despite the chaos around them.
"You aim. I'll shoot. How about that?"
Their eyes met. In that moment, no more words were needed. It was a testament to years of trust, of battles fought side-by-side.
Rebecca bit her lip, hard, then nodded firmly, a new resolve hardening her features. "Alright. On my command."
"Got it."
Rebecca repositioned herself, her body becoming one with the rifle, her senses expanding to feel the subtle airflow, the humidity, the very pulse of the battlefield. Martin's hands rested lightly over hers on the rifle, his finger resting beside the trigger, ready.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
They could hear each other's heartbeats, a synchronized drumbeat of fear and determination.
In the faint currents of the morning air, it felt as though countless invisible threads of fate were intertwining. Among them, Rebecca's sharp instincts found the one, perfect, unwavering trajectory—a line that led straight to Shadow's brow.
A Single, Perfect Shot.
This was it. There were no second chances. No one could cover for them anymore.
"Now, Martin!"
Bang!
The report of the rifle was a sharp, definitive crack that split the dawn air. Martin pulled the trigger.
A jet of flame erupted from the muzzle. The primordial bullet, a shard of pure order, spun as it tore through the atmosphere. It pierced the lingering darkness and the haze of dust, a streak of brilliant white cutting across the devastated city. It flew between the suspended forms of Leon and Mevis, a messenger of desperate hope heading straight for the center of Shadow's forehead.
Shadow, his senses expanded by godhood, sensed the ambush a split second before impact. He twitched his head.
The bullet, destined for a killing blow, instead grazed the side of his head, tearing through his draconic ear. A spray of dark blood and shimmering energy erupted from the wound.
"ARRGH! How?! How can a mortal weapon harm the Dragon God's vessel?!" he roared, his grip instinctively loosening in shock and pain.
"Now, Mevis! This is it!" Leon yelled, his voice raw.
In that fleeting, priceless moment of distraction, Mevis summoned the very last dregs of her spirit energy. Ignoring the screaming protest of her soul-bound body, she conjured four orbs of searing white fire, suspending them around Shadow's head.
Primordial Magic: Sealing Art - Radiant Woodlight!
Boom!
The orbs converged, slamming into Shadow and enveloping him in a deafening explosion of purifying light. The force of the seal broke his grip entirely. Leon and Mevis dropped to the ground, gasping.
The moment her feet hit the broken earth, Mevis shouted, her voice cracking with strain, "Now, Son! End this!"
Leon gripped the Thundercloud Blade, his body falling into the familiar, final stance of the Cosmodeous Slash. Simultaneously, a terrifying, crimson aura of pure life-force—a bloody mirage—began to rise from his body. The air grew heavy and cold.
Ninth Gate: Death Gate – Night's Armor!
He channeled the corrosive, self-destructive power of all nine gates into the blade. He felt the Heart-Guarding Dragon Scale on his chest grow searing hot, a warning scream as its healing magic fought a losing battle against the technique's backlash. He didn't know if his body would survive it. But if they let this chance slip, everything was over.
Swish!
Leon became a streak of blue-and-crimson light, a razor-sharp blade of finality slicing through reality itself toward the false god.
"Leon... You have to win. You must!" Rossweise's prayer was a whisper from the ruins.
"Dad, you can do it. I know you can!" Noah's faith was a beacon.
"Go, kid. Take all our hopes with you." Odin's command was a final endorsement.
"Before the sun rises... kill him!" Constantine's roar was a challenge.
Boom!
The Radiant Woodlight seal shattered as Shadow broke free, his form radiating pure, unadulterated rage. He saw Leon charging and roared, "WHY WON'T YOU JUST GIVE UP AND DIE, LEON COSMODEOUS?!"
Thunder flashed. In the blinding, instantaneous illumination, Shadow saw it—the absolute, unbreakable determination in Leon's eyes, a will that no amount of godly power could ever extinguish.
"In the name of humanity," Leon's voice cut through the thunder, "and for every living being on Samuel—I will defeat you!"
The Thundercloud Blade slashed home.
The brilliance of the attack lit up the battlefield, illuminating the precise point on Shadow's chest where the blade struck. There was a sound like shattering crystal, and a spray of dark blood and dissipating energy erupted into the air. A black dragon scale, corrupted by chaos, and a white one, stolen from Constantine, slowly disintegrated and fell from his chest, their light fading into nothingness.
Thud.
Shadow's body collapsed to the ground, landing heavily in a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood, which soaked into the scorched earth and his torn, regal robes.
Before his vision faded completely, Shadow saw Leon standing over him, the Thundercloud Blade still humming in his hand.
"You've lost, Shadow," Leon stated, his voice devoid of gloating, filled only with finality.
"Is that so..?" Shadow's voice was a ragged whisper, the hoarseness of a lifetime of schemes clinging to it even now. "So this... this is what true death feels like..."
He slowly closed his eyes, his final breath leaving him in a soft, cryptic warning. "The last of the Clear Dragons has fallen. Samuel... will soon welcome... a ruler from another world..."
"What—?" Leon began, but it was too late.
Shadow's breathing ceased. All his plots, his ambitions, his stolen power, were buried with him in the cold dirt, vanishing before the first true light of dawn.
Mevis stared at Shadow's lifeless body, lying in its pool of blood, and a shuddering sigh of relief escaped her. "Thank goodness.... It's finally over."
As she spoke, the last of her strength gave way. Her vision darkened, and her legs buckled, sending her collapsing forward.
But in the next moment, she felt strong, steady arms catch her.
Blinking her eyes open, she found herself leaning against a familiar, scarred suit of black armor.
Leon, using the Thundercloud Blade as a crutch, hoisted Mevis onto his back with a grunt of effort, cradling her legs with his other arm. His back, though battered and bleeding, was as broad and dependable as a mountain.
Resting her head against his shoulder, Mevis whispered weakly into his ear, her voice thick with emotion, "We won..."
Leon took a deep, shuddering breath, the adrenaline finally receding, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion and a profound, quiet victory. "Yes," he said, his voice firm and clear. "We won."
The sun, as if waiting for this very moment, finally broke over the distant horizon. Its first golden rays swept across Sky City, dispersing the long night's shadows and bathing the ruins in a warm, hopeful light.
The Dragon Kings gathered atop the highest pile of rubble, gazing out at the devastated yet peaceful city.
"There's going to be a monumental amount of rebuilding to do, Simon," Morgan remarked, though a genuine smile touched his lips for the first time in days.
"At least this time," the Tower Master replied, his own smile weary but content, "we can rebuild without the constant fear of a cataclysm sleeping beneath our foundations."
The group stood in comfortable silence for a moment, simply savoring the cool, clean breeze of the new dawn.
Constantine stood a little apart from them, looking slightly out of place. Leon and Mevis had moved ahead, and no one seemed to know what to say to the redeemed Crimson Flame King. His only companion was Adam's massive warhammer, resting against the rubble beside him.
As Constantine drew a breath, preparing to offer his farewells and depart, a familiar, high-pitched voice called out from the distance, cutting through the morning air.
"Father! Father! You won! You won!"
Constantine froze, then turned slowly, disbelievingly.
There, running through the rubble, her small form silhouetted against the golden dawn, was Hefei. She waved her arms wildly, a brilliant smile lighting up her face.
"Hefei...?" Constantine breathed, his stern features softening into an expression of pure, unvarnished wonder.
Hefei didn't stop until she had thrown herself into her father's waiting arms, hugging him with all her might.
"Uncle Leon sent a message yesterday!" she explained, her words tumbling out in an excited rush. "He said that if the sky city was still standing when the sun rose, I could ask Auntie Shirley to bring me up to see you!"
"Leon.." Constantine murmured, holding his daughter tightly. He glanced over at Leon, who was now supporting Mevis but offered a slight, almost imperceptible nod in his direction. A rough, genuine laugh escaped Constantine's throat. "Thank you," he whispered, the words meant for the man who had given him this second chance.
With Hefei secure in his arms, Constantine walked to the highest point of the ruins and pointed toward the magnificent, fiery sunrise.
"I told you, Hefei," he said, his voice softer than anyone had ever heard it. "All goodbyes are only temporary—"
Nestled safely in her father's embrace, Hefei's dark, lively eyes reflected the brilliant, hopeful colors of the dawn.
"One day, at another dawn, we will always reunite."